TM
by practice
Summary: Post-Sburb. Upset at the deaths he's caused and the pain he's experienced, John runs away to the battlefield and digs himself a dungeon of wind. Dave, Karkat, Jane, and Terezi must settle their romantic disputes to rescue him from his own inner pain. Meanwhile, a prospitian known as TM threatens the universe with a new virus.


Jade died, partly because of me. I killed Gamzee outright.

The game joyfully proclaims me a hero. My friends applaud my natural heroism, but all I can think of when I see them laughing is _what I had killed one of them instead._

I lean against a grainy red stone, staring up at the sky and wondering if getting up this morning was really worth the hassle. The smells of sugar and grass fill my lungs.

"John! You are so shyyyyy all of a sudden! Why do you not come over and - and - and have fun with us?" asks Jane, one of the survivors. She sits at a table with Karkat, Dave, and Terezi, eating a homemade cake. Ever since the Condesce controlled her, she hasn't been the same, or so her friends used to tell me. Her friends, whom I will never hang around and play video games with again.

I shake my head at her request and walk further away, leaving the circle of stones entirely. At least the troll sprites know not to bug me. The bright smiles of my friends in the distance contrast with the blankness I feel inside. I sit down, stick a finger in the rich dirt of LOMAX, and twirl it around, drawing lines in a picture of nothing in particular. The repetitive motions soothe me far more than a romp with the other survivors would.

After around ten minutes, a hand rests itself on my shoulder "Hey, John. You wanna talk?"

I look up to see Dave wearing a red cape and a sad smile. "Go away," I say. How can he talk and eat and laugh and live as if nothing ever happened?

"Look, John, I-"

"Go away!" I shout. Dave steps back to give me space. I jump into the air and fly away on the wind, remembering all the times Dave almost died, all the alternate timeline Daves, and Davesprite, who took off one day and came back split into tiny shards. No tears wet my face. I ran out of tears long ago.

Frigid, high-altitude winds whip my face. I relish the sensation, almost happy to feel _something_, even if it's uncomfortable and the occasional insect lands on me. LOMAX shrinks beneath me. The striations on the hills soon blend together and the overall shape of the planet comes into view. I stare at the X, thinking about the gasses of LOMAX's pit and how even though Xenon is nontoxic, one cannot breathe just Xenon for long and survive. The option appeals to me, but I turn away from the Xenon pit. Today, I do not feel much like suicide. Too much stress would be involved. Instead, I fly straight for the second battlefield, the one Jade and I brought in a ship a year ago to the day.

Jade. I loved her once. Some nights I stayed up dreaming about running my fingers through her hair, flying through the medium together, and sharing long days giggling over movies followed by long nights keeping each other warm. I push the thoughts from my mind, repeating to myself that I spent my tears long ago. It's become a comforting mantra for me, a saying that allows me to move during the day and sleep during the night.

The battlefield looms before me. I choose the side without the giant hole in it and focus a small tornado. It starts creating a cave large enough to house a person. The last time I drilled with a tornado, I was indiscriminate and carefree. Five hundred and fifty-two carapacians died.

_I ran out of tears long ago._

Letting the tornado drill on its own, I sit down on a black square. A small patch of flowers blemishes the square's beauty. I pull it out and use my mouth to puff, blowing it far into the distance. Too many plants have grown on this battlefield. Jade put them there in the patches that weren't already grassy in an attempt to make life more cheerful for the carapacians. I use the wind to uproot every flower I can find, leaving a pure black-and-white battlefield for miles.

The tornado finishes its business and I hop into the tiny tunnel. Darkness soon encloses me, reflecting perhaps the me that exists beneath the skin. Maybe I'll hit the ground too hard and die. I almost wish I could adjust myself so my head hits first. Instead, I land nicely at the bottom of the hole. If I judged my powers right, the tornado dug me several rooms. The small face of a baby dersite stares down at me and I move away. No need to let a youngster know just how bad life can get.

I walk blindly through the pit of my creation, desperate to escape from any reminders of my old life. Maybe someday I'll leave, but for now, this place will become my willing prison. Sitting down cross-legged on the stone floor, I blank my mind and try to forget the game ever came for me in the mail.


End file.
